


Something to Talk About

by Draycevixen



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Blow Jobs, Eavesdropping, Humour, M/M, Weekly Obbo Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loose lips sink... agents.</p><p>Written for the Weekly Obbo challenge: Off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to Talk About

.

“Everything’s quiet down this end.”

Bodie glanced up as he saw movement at the end of the alley, a shuffling figure in an old mac splashing through large oily puddles reflecting the weak light from an old street lamp. He watched as the man straightened up and started loping toward him in a familiar gait.

“Hold on, Doyle’s here.”

Doyle’s shoulders were hunched against the cold, hands thrust deeply in to his pockets, an old hat squashing his curls down around his ears.

“Yeah, I’m here but I still don’t see the bloody point to it, bloody Cowley, freezing me bloody balls off and for what? For nothing.”

Bodie brought the R/T closer to his mouth again. “’D’you hear that, Anson?”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to write it in the report. Don’t forget the chips on your way back to the van.”

“Right.” Bodie shoved the R/T in to his coat pocket.

Bodie thought carefully about what to say next. He was all too familiar with this particular mood of Doyle’s and knew that handled wrongly it could be a bit too much like being trapped in a sack with a rabid ferret. Not that he’d ever be stupid enough to share that particular description with Doyle. While he was still thinking, Doyle grabbed his arm and pulled him further back into the dead end alley, pushing him firmly into the darkened corner and trapping him between his arms.

“Course for all the use they’re getting they might as well be frozen” Doyle snarled.

“C’mon Ray, it’s not the time or the place and—”

Doyle pressed in closer, cutting off his words.

“Feels right to me, Bodie.”

Ray crushed his mouth in a demanding kiss that Bodie avidly returned. Bodie didn’t even care that Doyle currently smelled like that rabid ferret had actually died in its sack. His hands went to the mac’s buttons before Ray batted them away.

“No.”

“ _No?_ ”

Doyle kissed him again. “I’ve been living rough under that bridge for four days now. _I_ don’t want to touch me let alone have you do it. I’ve got something else in mind.”

Doyle undid Bodie’s flies, shimmying his trousers down a little to free his erection before closing his hand around Bodie’s cock and stroking him. Doyle dropped to his knees, the mac ballooning out around him over the crushed cardboard and discarded wrappers as he practically inhaled Bodie’s cock. As Ray sucked him, fondling his balls, a litany of inspirational filth spilled from Bodie’s mouth as he ground his upper body in to the wall, resisting the urge to thrust, trying to prolong it as long as he could. Finally Doyle’s talented fingers slipped back further between his legs pushing him over the edge. Doyle climbed Bodie’s body to kiss him and Bodie could feel Doyle’s erection against his hip.

“I suggest we—”

Bodie scrambled to answer his R/T as it went off. “Anson?”

“I _suggest_ 3.7, that you stop leaning on the talk switch.”

 

.


End file.
